


Truth or Dare

by high_lady_of_books



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bisexual Harry Potter, Boys Kissing, Established Relationship, Gay Draco Malfoy, Gryffindor/Slytherin Inter-House Relationships, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Kissing, M/M, Other, Seven Minutes In Heaven Game, Truth or Dare, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:46:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26622367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/high_lady_of_books/pseuds/high_lady_of_books
Summary: What happens when you put a few Gryffindors, redeemed Slytherins, and some late-night teenage fun in one common room?Truth or Dare, obviously.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson/Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom/Blaise Zabini, Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan/Theodore Nott/Dean Thomas
Comments: 10
Kudos: 269
Collections: Harry Potter





	Truth or Dare

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! 
> 
> This is my first fanfic on here, so I hope you guys like it :)

The eighth years sat in a circle, filling the common room. They had gotten their own, smaller tower for their dormitories, and while each had a separate room, the students had all become closer throughout the extra year. 

The Golden Trio, along with Neville, Dean, and Seamus had come back that year. There were only a few from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, and none of them were known too well by the Gryffindors, but the group from Slytherin had made itself known quite clearly.

Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, and Pansy Parkinson had been the only returning Slytherins in their year. The four of them had all apologized countless times to everyone, helping the house unity efforts. Pansy, Hermione, and McGonagall were working towards making the students ignore their differences to get along better, though almost everyone still harbored hatred toward the Slytherins. It was getting better, though.

After the Halloween feast, the eighth years had gathered in their common room to celebrate by themselves. Theo and Seamus had managed to smuggle in firewhisky, among other alcoholic wizard drinks.

"I have an idea!" Pansy chirped, refilling her glass of the alcohol and plopping onto the couch next to Hermione. "Let's play Truth or Dare!"

Ron groaned along with most of the room from the other side of Hermione, having played the game one too many times with his brothers and Ginny. Draco, ever the drama queen, let out a heaving sigh and throwing a hand into the air, not moving otherwise from where he was situated, his head leaning on a pillow behind him and his long legs thrown over the arm, as he happened to be sitting sideways on the chair. "Really, Pansy?"

Harry snorted into his cup. 

"Got something to say, Potter?" Draco cut a glance at him, his grey eyes sharp. "You could share with the group."

"No, no, I wouldn't steal your attention like that," Harry drawled, imitating the face the blond had worn a few seconds ago. "We all know you can't share, you bloody prat."

Everyone else watched the exchange with wide eyes, just tipsy enough to allow a few giggles to echo around the room as the two rivals argued. Or, as most of the occupants of the room would say, flirted.

"Pot-ter, you're simply calling the kettle black." Draco grinned, elegant fingers wrapping around his glass to take a sip of the beverage. "I seem to recall you stealing my spotlight countless times over the years."

"In your dreams, Malfoy. You just want to be noticed," Harry replied, watching the pale boy from across the room, his own lips curving into a sharp smirk.

"How astute of you, O Savior and Chosen One." The Slytherin's gaze was locked on the Gryffindor and vice versa, the rest of the room falling away to leave them caught in their own spell.

It was broken a moment later by Hermione straightening and clearing her throat. "Truth or Dare it is. Who's going first?"

"Let's choose people Spin the Bottle style," Theo chimed from his perch on the arm of a couch next to Dean. If you looked closely, you could see that while Dean and Seamus were irrevocably entangled, both of the boys kept exchanging glances with the snake every now and then.

Pansy made a noise of agreement, head nodding furiously. Blaise, seeing the decision, reached next to him and revealed a finished and empty bottle that probably used to contain firewhisky. He tossed it easily to Pansy, who broke out into a grin. "Shall we?"

The group all nodded or uttered their concurrence. Pansy set the bottle, sideways, on the floor and flicked it into a dizzying spin. It circled the room multiple times, and as it slowed down, everybody held their breath as they waited to see the result. 

The bottle spun, and spun, and finally landed on-

Hermione Granger. 

The bushy-haired girl allowed a small smile onto her face. "Should I spin it to find a victim, or should I choose?"

"Spin it," Seamus shouted, hands cupped around his mouth for a second before they slipped back around Dean. 

The Gryffindor girl nodded minutely before setting the bottle into another circle of impending doom. Again, everyone in the room watched it carefully, willing it to move how they wanted. 

It landed on Blaise, who let out a pitiful moan and pushed himself into a sitting position. "Dare."

At that moment, everyone who had the luck to glance at Hermione at that moment got a rare look at her evil smirk, an expression that was somehow so out of place and so perfectly fitting on her face. "Blaise."

The boy in question looked up to find her grinning at him, and the view caused him to shiver and shrink back into his chair, fear overcoming his features. "Yes?"

"We'll start this off nice and easy, how about? Nothing too hard to begin with." Her smile turned innocent, but all in the room knew it was a fake. Which made it that much more terrifying. "Kiss Neville for a solid two minutes."

This was met with burning cheeks and horrified faces from both mentioned. Pansy was cackling, a hand settled on Hermione's shoulder, and even Ron was chuckling at the events. Blaise, however reluctantly, got up and sat next to Neville, who'd been lounging on the carpeted floor nearby.

The Gryffindor bit his lip, eyes dropping to Blaise's mouth for a split second before jumping back up, face getting redder than anyone thought possible. The blushing boys sat next to each other, Blaise raising his hands to Neville's face. Hermione's voice broke the moment for a few seconds: "I'm starting the timer in 3... 2... 1. Begin."

The two connected their lips, both frozen at first, completely motionless, until, surprisingly, Neville was the first to move. His hands hovered closer, finally resting on Blaise's hips, his mouth pressing firmly over the other's. At the contact, Blaise gasped, his eyes flying open for less than a second before they closed again, melting into the kiss. Neville took the opportunity to slip his tongue into the Slytherin's mouth, deepening the kiss. A small whimper rose from the dark-skinned boy, barely audible. 

The room was silent around the two, gaping mouths and small whispers running amuck in the crowd. No one was expecting the soft Gryffindor to take control of the proud Slytherin. But now they all knew who would top in their OTP. 

When Hermione called the time, the boys broke apart, Blaise immediately reddening and Neville following suit a few moments after. Blaise started to get up to move back to his seat, but Neville curled a hand around his wrist and tugged him back down, interlocking their hands while they sat on the floor. Clapping filled the room, mortifying the boys further and making everyone else laugh.

"Your turn to spin, Blaise," Theo said, kicking the bottle to where the Slytherin now sat. The boy twisted the bottle sharply, letting it fly around in circles until slowed to a stop.

"Fuck," came the quiet response from Ron, who knew firsthand how terrible this game could be. "Bloody hell. Is this really necessary?"

"So, what do you choose, Weasley? Public humiliation? Or the spilling of all your deepest secrets, causing further public humiliation?"

"Truth?" The answer sounded like a question in itself. 

Blaise smiled, glancing around to the room, seemingly searching for something to ask. He finally found something after looking back at Ron. "Have you ever liked anyone other than Hermione? If so, who and how long."

Ron's face lit up a startling shade of crimson. "I- uh, well, um, I guess... Pansy. For a few years?"

The girl raised her eyebrows, leaning around Hermione to look him up and down. "Good taste, darling. You're not too bad yourself." She winked, adding to Ron's blush. 

The red-haired boy quickly looked away, taking the bottle and spinning it.

"Truth or Dare, Theodore."

"The fuck? I've told you gits to stop calling me that. My name is Theo," Theo growled under his breath. "Dare, you bastards."

"Sit on Dean's lap for the rest of the game. I want to see how long it takes before Seamus wants to kill you." 

Theo smiled, the expression devilish and making him even more handsome. "Gladly, Weasel. I'd love to," he murmured, grin feral and sly, as he slid from the arm of the couch onto the Gryffindor's legs. Dean's face was heating up as Theo turned slightly, catching his eyes and winking.

The Slytherin raised a hand, pointing at Seamus. "Spin the bottle for me? I seem to be incredibly comfortable where I'm sitting, I don't really want to get up."

Seamus surprised everyone when he actually grabbed the bottle for Theo, only a mild annoyance on his face. Usually, he would have killed anyone who even got close to Dean. He spun the bottle with a harsh flick of the hand, making it spin wildly. 

It landed on an unsuspecting Pansy, who was inspecting her nails, having made Hermione hold her drink. The eighth years all stared at her until she noticed them, glanced down to the bottle pointing directly at her, and her painted mouth split into a wide smile. "My turn? How kind of you, Theo. Dare."

"Kiss the most beautiful person in this room." 

Pansy's eyes examined the players, taking notice of each person and evaluating them. She stood, moving over to where Draco sat, getting her face very close to his own, then spun around, making him gasp incredulously. 

"Pansy! I am the prettiest person in the room, get back over here," he shrieked, face drawn in disbelief.

"Sorry, Drakie-poo, but I have other preferences at the moment. Besides, you wouldn't enjoy it anyway, considering your preferences." The girl sat back in her spot, picking up her drink again.

Then, surprising everyone, she suddenly turned to Hermione, who still sat next to her, and pecked the girl on the cheek before setting the bottle into a lazy circle. It spun only a few times and landed on the wide-eyed victim while everyone was still gawking at what had just happened. 

Harry Potter, the Golden Boy himself, sputtered a bit before picking a form of torture. "Truth."

Pansy grinned, a plan already outlined in her cunning mind. "Well, Potter, won't this be fun." She took a large gulp from her glass but still made it look elegant, a great feat almost none could manage. "Do you like boys too, or are you straight? I have a bet to settle."

"I'm, um, bisexual. So, yes. I can appreciate the male anatomy just as easily." Harry was barely blushing, only a faint pink rising to his cheeks. 

The room erupted into titters and hushed exclamations as Pansy strolled over to Draco, holding out a hand. "Pay up, you prick. I told you I was right. I'm always right." She nudged Draco again before he groaned and dug a hand into his pocket. A few silver sickles dropped into the girl's perfectly manicured hand. "All of it. Don't try to cheat me, I will decapitate your bloody head, and you know it," she commented as she hit him lightly. 

"Fine, you evil witch." Draco pulled a grimace as he pulled out multiple gold galleons. "I hate you."

"Love you too, Drakie," she chirped, flouncing back to her seat. 

"Call me that one more fucking time." 

"Gladly, darling Drakie-poo." 

"You're so lucky I don't want to get up," he hissed, a deep frown etched into his pale features. All he got back was a sweet smile.

Harry chuckled at their antics, stretching out a foot to kick the bottle into a wavering, but circular, motion. 

The recipient of the action was staring at him when he looked up from the mesmerizing bottle. Theo again.

"I choose..." The Slytherin trailed off, tapping a single finger to his chin. "Hmm, I guess truth. I don't particularly want to move."

Harry sat silent for a moment, thinking about what to ask. Then, in a surprising show of observation and intelligence (he had become a bit less oblivious this year, as he had a few less things to worry about), he asked: "What's going on between you, Dean, and Seamus?"

Seamus choked on his drink, Dean's face turned a bright scarlet, and Theo just smirked. "Wouldn't you like to know, sweetheart."

Hermione piped up then, eyebrows scrunched together. "You have to answer." Her mouth twisted to the side. "Unless you want to be cursed, of course."

Half of the room looked disbelieving, the other half looked smug at this revelation. Theo's face drooped. "Right. I forgot about that."

Harry was still confused (he still retained quite a bit of his original knowledge of wizardry, which is say, nearly none at all). "What? Why would you get cursed?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, annoyed with Harry's idiocy yet again. "We're playing the game as wizards and witches, there's obviously going to be a way to keep people honest. You have to answer the truth honestly or begin the dare before five minutes go by or else you get cursed. There's not too much information about what curse it is, though."

Theo cleared his throat, catching the room's attention. "Well, if you don't mind, I'd like to answer before any cursing happens." He glanced behind him to Dean and Seamus, locking eyes for a moment with a slightly apologetic expression. "We hook up sometimes."

At this, the room exploded into chaos, people chattering and laughing. Theo had a smug look that seemed a bit less smug than usual, while Dean was red-faced. Seamus just blushed and chugged more firewhisky. 

"Let's continue, how about that?" The Slytherin, still on Dean's lap, turned to Seamus with a raised eyebrow. Sighing, the boy got up and spun the bottle again. 

Seeing where the bottle had landed, Hermione slouched for a second before popping back up. "Dare, I am a Gryffindor, after all."

Ron and Harry looked offended at that, considering their earlier choices.

Theo smirked. "You have to get Ron, Pansy, and yourself to fit onto a single armchair together."

Hermione shrugged, grabbing the two by the wrist and tugging them up, moving to where Blaise had vacated earlier, leaving the chair empty.

She pointed to the seat, looking at Ron. He sat, knowing to always follow Hermione's orders. She was scary when you didn't, as both he and Harry had learned multiple times throughout their years together. 

Hermione looked over a Pansy, pointing to the chair. Pansy just narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms and taking a defiant face. 

"Pansy Parkinson, sit next to Ronald." A malicious glint sparked in the bushy-haired girl's eye.

"What if I said no?" 

Hermione stepped closer, standing up to the Slytherin. "Sit. Down."

Pansy smirked, stepping closer as well. "No." 

The Gryffindor's arms shot out and, before anyone could process it, had shoved Pansy down next to Ron, who just shrugged complacently. 

Hermione plopped onto the middle of them, half on each of their laps. Both let out a surprised squeak, faces turning as red as the Gryffindor tie on the girl who smirked and leaned back against them. 

"Hey, Harry? Can you spin for me? I'm sure these two would complain if their blanket moved after they just got comfortable," Hermione addressed with a devious smirk. 

The ebony rolled his eyes and got up. "Only because Ron needs to be humiliated like this for as long as possible."

"Hey!" came the muffled shout from the already deeply humiliated boy.

The bottle spun for a full minute and then some after Harry sent it off. When it began slowing down, everybody was already annoyed by how long it was taking. When it finally chose a sacrifice, it was:

"Neville Longbottom."

"Yes, Hermione?" He raised his head from where it had been resting on Blaise's shoulder.

"Truth or Dare, my fellow proud Gryffindor?" The girl's speech was slightly slurred by now, showing just how much she had had to drink (half the room was almost completely drunk at this point). Ron gently pried the cup from her grasp while Pansy chuckled unhelpfully. 

"I suppose a Truth would be in order," the boy replied, eyes twinkling with amusement. 

"Are you in love with Blaise?"

Neville glanced over at the boy next to him, the glint in his eyes softening towards the Slytherin. Mouth opening, then closing, then opening again. "I could easily say I have been for years."

Staring back at him, Blaise's cheeks turned a brilliant shade of vermillion to match Ron's hair. "What the hell? Me too," he muttered under his breath. "Wait, um, not that I'm in love with myself, that would be weird-"

"It's not weird, Blaise. I'm not weird, am I? And I love myself to fucking bits," Theo interjected, being shushed and hushed from every direction. 

Everybody quieted down in time to hear Blaise say: "Love you too, Longbottom." It was met with aaw and so adorable and other fangirlish sentiments. Someone even said uwu out loud.

After a long moment of staring into each other's eyes, Neville took the bottle and kissed Blaise on the cheek before spinning it softly. It circled once, twice, thrice, and stopped. 

Directly on a distracted Draco Malfoy. 

Pansy's eyes widened and she waved an urgent hand at the Gryffindor who'd spun. Reluctantly getting up, they conferred for a moment in heated whispers, only Ron and Hermione overhearing the reason why twin mischievous smiles grew on their faces. 

Neville sauntered over to where Draco was deep in a book, sipping occasionally from a nearby glass of firewhisky. The Gryffindor leaned over, eyes scanning the page amusedly. Multiple people were confused when his eyes widened almost comically. 

"Merlin, Draco, what in the world are you reading!?"

Draco's head snapped up, hitting itself on the arm of the chair behind him. "Bloody fucking hell," he hissed, snapping the book closed and flinching away. "Go away, Longbottom!"

"No, what is this?" Neville ripped the book from his hands, waving it above his head and reading the back. "Oh Merlin, this is-"

He was cut off by a pale hand yanking him backward and holding his mouth shut. "Shut the fuck up, Neville fucking Longbottom. I will end you." Then Draco whispered something into his ear that no one else could hear. 

Neville went paler than anyone had ever seen him and began nodding his head vigorously. "Yeah, o- okay, I- here's your book-"

"Thank you." Draco's face was cold and cruel, a sickly sweet smile echoing the sentiment. "Now, what did you come over here to pester me about?"

"You, um, it's your turn for Truth or Dare," Neville stuttered.

"You spun?"

The Gryffindor nodded, looking unsteady while he sat back next to Blaise, who slipped an arm around the almost-shaking boy. 

"Dare."

"Okay, um, I dare you to-" Neville swallowed, a lump in his throat. "-do Seven Minutes In Heaven with Potter."

"Pansy, why are you polluting this boy's brain," Draco asked dryly, glaring at the black-haired girl underneath Hermione. "I know this was your idea."

"Darling, did you ever see me get up to talk to him?" Pansy was trying to play it off like she hadn't done anything. It was, as suspected, a lie.

Draco ignored her. "Potter. Get over here."

"Why? Are we actually going to do that?" The ebony's face contorted in confusion and wariness. 

"Yes, get the fuck over here. It's my dare, you're not going to make me get bloody cursed. I will murder you, you wanker." Draco stalked over and, grabbing Harry's shirt, dragged both of them to the nearest closet. The blond held up a certain finger to the crowd watching them. "Start the fucking timer," the Slytherin yelled through the door. 

Neville picked up Draco's book again, studying the cover. 

It was disguised to look like a normal volume from the library, but after watching over Draco's shoulder, he knew what was inside. Smirking, he opened the book to the scene Draco had been on. 

Who knew that the cold Prince of Slytherin liked reading smutty fanfiction? 

* * *

Draco rolled his eyes, leaning against Harry's chest. "I wish they would just stop trying to shove us together. Like, seriously, we can make our own fucking decisions sometimes."

"Draco, calm down. At least now we know we're stealthy enough. Not even Hermione noticed anything," Harry drawled, picking up his hand to run through Draco's soft blond hair. "And we've been at it since the year started."

"Was Hermione supposed to notice that we sneak in and out of each other's rooms more than Dean and Seamus? Because I think the purpose of keeping something is secret is for them not to know." Draco slid his arms around the ebony, barely able to make out his face in the dark.

"Want to trick them into thinking nothing happened in here? We'll just walk out and act casual," the Gryffindor suggested.

"Are you saying something should be happening in here?" Draco's eyes glittered, his grip tightening around Harry's sides. 

"I was thinking a quick makeout session before they realize we're still here." Harry lifted his mouth to meet Draco's in a chaste kiss, quick and heated, just a hint of more to come. 

"That's a wonderful idea. I love it when you use your brain, Potter," Draco murmured, melting into the feel of Harry's hands in his hair and Harry's mouth on his neck and Harry's body pressed against his. "It can be so fucking sexy when you do it right."

"Am I not always sexy?" The words came out as a half-growl, the ebony tugging gently on blond hair. 

"I suppose." The Slytherin pressed Harry into the wall, sending a few items crashing to the floor. 

They stayed intertwined for a few minutes, exploring each other's mouths, letting the magic of the moment flow between them like an eloquent poem about love. 

A sharp knock on the door broke them apart, sending them into a flurry of practiced movement. They fixed each other's ties and clothing, smoothing their hair down and, as the door swung open, were on opposite sides of the closet, amused grins barely hidden by fierce glares. 

Draco bumped shoulders with Harry on the way out, a whispered phrase hanging in the air after him. 

"My room tonight."


End file.
